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Mourning Morning Is On Sale

Here it is.  D-Day.  ‘Mourning Morning’ is no longer just mine.  Before I begin my descent into post-publishing depression let me share the details with you.

‘Mourning Morning’ will, at least for the time being, be available exclusively via Amazon.  You can buy a paperback, or for you modern kids, an eBook.  The good news for those of you that are members of Kindle Prime you can now borrow the book for no cost.  It is also enrolled in the Kindle MatchBook scheme which means that if you buy the Paperback you will have the opportunity to buy the eBook at a much reduced rate.

All that is left is for me to share the links:

Buy ‘Mourning Morning’ paperback

Buy ‘Mourning Morning’ for Kindle

And once you’ve read it don’t forget to leave a review on Goodreads..

‘Mourning Morning’ on Goodreads

 

 

A Romantic Gift To You All

It’s hard to believe that this day has come around again.  The one day a year when we express our love for each other in the most crass manner possible.  It is of course the most romantic day of the calendar year, Iraqi Communist Martyrs Day.

To mark a day of such importance and to demonstrate my love for each and every one of you I have decided to give you the literary equivalent of a flash of ankle at a nunnery.  I know, I know.  I am too kind.  Are you ready?  Take a seat, turn the lights down low and prepare to high-five an imaginary me.

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BookCoverImage

I am aware that the cover image contains more sexy than legally permitted in sixty-nine countries on this planet, therefore, I shall give you a moment to compose yourself.

Are you ready?  Let us continue.  It is time for the blurb.  For those of you that don’t know, a blurb is not a french swear word.  Although it probably should be.  A blurb is the description of the book which appears on the back cover.  It usually contains words.  Next to other words.  Here it is, for the first time ever, ladies and gentleman, Mourning Morning.

 

What if time was broken?  Would life continue as normal? Or would everything just stop?

For Norman Coleslaw, a young trainee journalist, a regular bicycle ride propels him into a week like nobody has ever experienced before.  A week free from reality, and the constraints of time.

Norman’s search for truth leads him into the path of great danger, and eventually places him nipple-to-face with the most dangerous man Miranisha has ever known, General Alain de Wilderspin.

Mourning Morning, the second novel from Scott Andrews, takes you on a riotous romp through the kind of absurd landscape which can only occur in a post-modern dictatorship.

And the best news of all, please whatever you do, do NOT explode from happiness – ‘Mourning Morning’ will go on sale next weekend, via Amazon.

I know what you are thinking.  That I have lost track of the true meaning of Iraqi Communist Martyrs Day.  That I don’t really love you, that I just want you to buy my book. Of course I want you to buy my book, but not merely because of a commercial day created to sell themed merchandise and greetings cards to the brainless masses.  I want you to buy the book because it is a good book.  Much like my other one.

Some of you out there in cyberspace may have read my first novel ‘Existence Is Futile’. Recently I had a lovely surprise when the author of the Witch Hunter trilogy, K.S. Marsden, announced her top 20 books on her website ‘The Northern Witch’s Book Blog’.  ‘Existence Is Futile’ is among them.  You can find her top 20 list right here and read her review right here.

The fact is and I have to be honest here, I know what you are thinking.  The dreaded second album.  The sequel. The second series.  You are worried that there is no way it can live up to expectations.  Let me set you straight.  I actually wrote ‘Mourning Morning’ two years before ‘Existence Is Futile’ which means that many of you have already read the dreaded second book.  Mind-blowing isn’t?  It can only mean one thing, ‘Mourning Morning’ must be even better.  Right?

By the way, just in case you missed it, here is thirty-two seconds of cinematic porn.

Have a great weekend 🙂

An Announcement More Massive Than Jungle

Ladies and Gentlemen, and the rest of you that fall somewhere along the bell curve:

It gives me great pleasure to offer you this short video presentation for your delectation. Please sit back, turn the lights down, turn the volume up, and get ready for the most magnificent news the human race has had since the invention of bacon.

If per chance, you like the video please share it.  Share it on Facebook, Twitter, in conversations, with family, with friends and most importantly with people you don’t know.

Feel free to leave any comments you may have below and to nominate me for an Oscar, if you really feel the need.

 

 

Labels

Once upon a time there was a language in which words had meaning.  And then came the devil Ambiguity, along with his minions, Politics and Religion.  From that moment forth, meaning became as cloudy as a shower of piss.

When contentious events unfold, anywhere in the world, there is a scramble to gain control of the narrative.  It is commonplace for businesses, governments and individuals on occasion to hire people to manage the flow of information and colour it appropriately to try to morph the story into a predefined version.  This behavior affects all forms of media, stretching from newspapers and magazines, all the way down to simple memes which people share online.

One of the key strategies in public misdirection is the inappropriate use of labels.  When a news story becomes attached to sometimes a single word, or a single idea, the public’s attention is driven away from considering what truly happened and instead the public become recipients of a ‘manufactured’ intrepretation.  A recent example is the shooting in Paris.

For those of you that have been hidden under a rock for the past week, two gunmen entered the office of a satirical magazine and murdered a number of people.  Various ‘labels’ for the shooters were flung around in the beginning such as ‘terrorists’, ‘extremists’ and ‘Islamists’, before they were quickly replaced by an ideology so important to Western European societies that almost immediately the crux of the problem was forgotten.  At some point it stopped being a terrorist attack, we were all mistaken, it was in fact an attack on free speech.  Except that it wasn’t.

There are always few bare facts in a story.  In this case the one fact that is crystal clear – a satirical magazine was attacked for cartoons which satirized Islam.  It was not the office of journalists without borders.  It wasn’t an association against censorship.  It was a targeted attack against one magazine.  To claim that this attack has anything to do with free speech makes as much sense as blaming it on cheese, or blaming it on religion.

In France there are an estimated 4.7 million Muslims.  There were three gunmen involved in this spate of attacks.  If by any chance this was genuinely caused by religious beliefs the result would have been significantly different.  And yet there were no riots or large-scale protests like we’ve seen in the past.  There is only one conclusion any rational person can draw from this.  What is the label that adequately describes men such as these, that purposely acquire weapons so they can murder people who create cartoons?  Mentally ill, perhaps?

Last weekend people marched in solidarity and didn’t really seem to know why.  They felt the very human urge to say that they are not scared, that they believe in free speech and that violence will never win.  Despite the fact they weren’t really sure of what they should be afraid of, nor were they sure of what precisely free speech is or who is threatening it.  The important thing is that ordinary people marched arm in arm with the free-speech (not so) loving leaders of the free world to send a message.  And the message was thus ‘we are blind’.

This ‘wave of feeling’ which has ridden across the western world is not going to be a catalyst for change.  Therefore it is meaningless.  The idea that doing absolutely nothing is going to stop further terror attacks is absolutely mental.  If anything they will only increase, as every single example only further demonstrates what sitting ducks we all are.  The worst thing is that whilst we all focus on the European narrative, while we raise our pens and proclaim ‘Je suis Charlie’, little by little our freedoms and our rights are going to be stolen from us piece by piece.

Dear Frog

*to spare the embarrassment of admitting that I have a French friend I shall protect his identity by not calling him Vincent, and instead calling him Le Frog.

On a recent visit to our new home, Le Frog asked me ‘Scott, why don’t you ever write anymore on your website?’  It was a question that stumped me.  It wasn’t as if I had made a conscious decision at any point to abandon this site to rot.  It was  more of a case that life had some how gotten in the way.

In the last twelve months I have moved country(again), gotten married(for the first time), wrote some material for a musician(a different one), finished another novel(not yet published), tried to find a grown up job(and failed) and procrastinated a whole bunch.  The only thing more impressive than my list of bona-fide accomplishments is my list of things I haven’t done in the last twelve months: climbed a mountain(any one), tamed a lion(a vegetarian one), changed my underpants(now you are concerned) and grown up.

The thing is, or if I was to phrase it in a more honest manner, the writer’s excuse is that writing typically is reactionary.  It is as natural as breathing and farting(not at the same time).  Usually it is provoked by a thought that won’t go away, like a buzzing in your brain.  In my case it’s a form of exorcism.  If I didn’t expunge the host of negative thoughts that reside in my brain I would be physically unable to utter any other words than ‘fuck’ and ‘bollocks’.

If I am honest, those negative thoughts haven’t stopped.  I find it incredulous that so many horrible things are going on in so many parts of the world and the vast majority of it is a misery generated by humans on humans, whilst from the sidelines the leaders that are sent to protect us just watch in awe as entire countries borders are redefined on the whim of a lunatic.  I am resigned to this wave of passive indifference that has washed over every single one of us.

The truth is that I have stopped writing because I have become every thing I detest in modern man.  I have become a passive observer to a fucking horrible freak show.  Writing no longer feels like an action.  Writing no longer matters.  As Le Frog himself likes to say, ‘Sacrebleu!’

*He doesn’t really.

**No French person does.

***C’est la vie.